


It Starts in a Bookshop

by 1d_larryshipper



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Harry is kind of dumb but also he's sweet, He just doesn't really realize, I hope I talked about it/mentioned it enough to make it appealing to larry shippers :D, I hope it's better than I think it is, I wrote this in one night, M/M, Mentions Of Larry - Freeform, OC Point of View, Sorry it isn't full out Larry, sort of cheating but nor really?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-20 12:50:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/887464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1d_larryshipper/pseuds/1d_larryshipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They meet in a bookshop, and she's wearing red for reading day and he's in converse that match the baby he's with. </p><p>Or </p><p>The one where Harry thinks he might be straight but Louis has great curves and no he cannot go on a date with someone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Starts in a Bookshop

**Author's Note:**

> I just came up with this really fast, hope that you guys like it! Kind of different than what I normally write but I hope it is decent,

They meet in a bookstore on a Tuesday, when she’s wearing red for circle time and reading to the play group that comes in every second Tuesday of the month. The story this time is something about a honey bee who only wants to pollinate the purple flowers, but learns to accept all colors of flowers.

 

It’s an excellent moral tied into a ridiculous story, and she feels ridiculous for putting on the different voices, but if she is going to travel almost an hour by train to get to and from work she might as well make the most of it.

 

She’s handing out lollies at the end of the story, just generic ones with clear plastic wrapping and looped handles-trying not to roll her eyes when a child cries because they are all out of the red ones. She promises that next time she’ll save him a red one, which seems to calm him down some, and moves to him and the little girl in the back.

 

She knows who he is, thinks that you would have to be stupid to not, because his face is plastered all over every magazine she reads and his cutout is smiling to the window shoppers passing by. The little girl he’s crouched next to has a matching pair of converse on her feet and greedily reaches forward when she comes by with the container full of sweets.

 

“Which color would you like, sweetheart?” She asks the little girl and tries to avoid his gaze on her face. Distractedly, she wonders if she remembered to brush her hair that morning before she threw it up in a ponytail, but it’s normally so curly that you wouldn’t be able to tell if she had anyways.

 

“She likes the purple ones,” His voice is deep and he’s looming over her now with the little girl cradled in her arms as he reaches in and pulls out a lollipop for the girl and unwraps it; he smiles at the way she takes a tentative lick before sucking down the entire thing in one go.

 

“Would you like one too?” She thinks she’s supposed to be nervous offering him anything because he’s so famous, and she’s making less than minimum wage and still living with her nan at the age of twenty-three but she is anything but the fact.

 

“Sure,” He takes a green one with a smile, “Thanks, love. I’m Harry by the way.” He reaches out a free hand, tucking the lolly into his pocket, and she nods her head.

 

“I’m Anna.” And that’s how they meet.

 

* * *

 

Harry’s wonderful; he takes her to fancy dinners and buys her these really expensive clothes and jewelry that she knows she’ll never wear to anything because the last time she dressed up was to go to the Christmas party her work was hosting almost eight months ago.

 

As it turns out, though, dating Harry Styles comes with the perks of actually being able to attend things that you would wear the overpriced garments to. He invites her to shows and she gets VIP passes, and she has to private her instagram and twitter from the prying eyes of his millions of fans. She’s decided against googling her name, or reading any of her mentions. She switched her notifications off when she received thirty follow requests in one night. 

 

She isn’t sure that they are boyfriend and girlfriend officially, and she would never ask because as much as they text back and forth there’s something that she can’t quite place about the popstar. His bandmates are nice, and she particularly likes Louis. He’s sweet and energetic, very camp, and always compliments her figure. She’s naturally skinny and built like Harry-they could be taken for siblings if it weren’t for the fact that they were having sex regularly.

 

* * *

 

She’s sitting with them backstage of a show that they had preformed on, and they have a couple hours before they need to go on. She’s balanced precariously on Harry’s lap and his large palm is tickling her back, but his eyes are trained somewhere across the room.

 

The thing is she really likes Harry. More than likes, she thinks, because he’s so wonderful and attentive. He’s the first guy in bed that’s ever offered to eat her out and actually enjoy doing it, and she always orgasms with him. He remembers pointless details like, her mum and dad pissing off when she was little, how she and four siblings were sent to live with her nan, and how she hates cabbage. But she isn’t sure that Harry really likes her all that much. It’s hard to say when half the time they spend together is either in the bedroom or at his flat which he shares with Louis.

 

“It’s not like…it’s just. Our team thinks it’s better if we say we all live separately, you know? Makes us more appealing to the fans and whatnot if they think we have bachelor pads or summat.” It makes sense because after that day they met in the bookstore, her in a red t-shirt and him in black converse, she’d googled around and soon learned about the whole Larry Stylinson conspiracy.

 

“I won’t sell your secrets to the press,” She winks and that earns her a kiss that has her spine tingling, their breakfast long forgotten on the counters.

 

But Anna really likes Louis, and he seems to like her-even drunkenly rambling to her that Eleanor really is a beard but not to cover up for Larry Stylinson. “It’s cute, when they do it for just themselves. Not so much when they are picking apart my every action and bitching about Eleanor. I care about her, hell I love the girl and I don’t like to see her sad. And it’s hard to do anything if I have to worry about everything I do coming across… _gay._ ” He chokes on the use of the word slightly and blushes prettily against his cheekbones. He’s a pretty boy with delicate features, and she remembers Harry once drunkenly admitting that Louis’ curves were his favorite part of his body. She tried to ignore the pang that hit hard when he hadn’t even managed to look her in the eyes during his confession. She’d nodded awkwardly as Louis rambled on about how hard it was to be a gay popstar, and then spent another five minutes having her promise to just forget he had said anything at all. She’d just nodded and stirred her straw in her drink, thinking that they must all experience a lot of dishonesty if they were constantly begging her to not say anything about things that shouldn’t matter quite so much.

 

She’s afraid that maybe one day she’ll lose Harry to Louis, no matter how much the two claim to be strictly best friends. She’s seen his shirts on Louis’ floor, and even had to search for his toothbrush in Louis’ bathroom with him rambling excuses about how, “I lost my toothpaste and it was just easier because Lou was in the middle of a story anyways…” And she’ll never forget the time that she had come over to their flat and seen them both curled together asleep, the front door clicking close having both of them start up and blame it on sheer exhaustion. They are closer than most best mates she’s ever come across in her lifetime but she hasn’t got much experience with friends anyways, and maybe that’s what popstar relationships are like.

 

While they all gather around when a pretty, young, show attendant comes in to lead them to the main stage where they’ll perform a few songs and give a quick interview. She feels Harry’s palm leave her back, and his eyes leave Louis, as he smiles at the girl-focusing all his attention on her crystalline eyes. _Maybe,_ she thinks vindictively, _she hasn’t quite got Harry but neither does Louis._

 

* * *

 

They’re at some small house party, just the band and close friends. Anna isn’t drunk, she’s hardly even buzzed, because she has work in the morning and she’d promised Harry she wouldn’t drive home if she got to drunk. She’s lost him in the sea of people, after stopping to talk to some old friend of Niall’s who accent was thicker than his.

 

After an extremely awkwardly conversation with many pauses and a lot of Anna asking, “Sorry come again?” She makes her way around the house once, trying to find the boy she’d misplaced over an hour ago.

 

He isn’t hard to find, and she doesn’t know why she’s so surprised, when she stumbles across him and Louis in a corner. Louis’ backed up against the wall with his arms locked tight around Harry’s neck, who has his own hands melded to Louis’ sides. _“I really love Louis’ curves,”_ He had said, and she can’t believe she hadn’t guessed it at all.

 

She clears her throat awkwardly, and clutches her over the shoulder purse she’d brought with her. She felt uncomfortable coming to such an intimate party and she feels even worse now that she lost the only thing that really kept her feeling part of the group.

 

“Anna…” Harry breathes and he pulls away from Louis, the two of them obviously extremely intoxicated, “Oh Christ.” He looks properly embarrassed opposed to Louis who is staring confused and toying with the tips of Harry’s fingers that hadn’t quite managed to leave his side.

“I think I’m going to go,” Anna tells Harry quietly and she can’t pull her eyes away from the section of his stomach where his shirt has risen up. He’s hard, she can see the lump in his trousers and he shifts uncomfortably when he notices her staring.

 

“Should…I’ll come with you. We should talk.” He looks desperate, and a lot less drunk than he had a few seconds ago.

 

“No, Harry, really.” She smiles and manages to make it look less like a grimace, “How about you just call me tomorrow?”

 

* * *

 

They’re lying on her floor in her bedroom with the window propped open and jumpers shoved to fill the crack under her bedroom door. He passes her the joint and she breathes it in deeply, and watches him exhale-the smoke almost translucent. Work was stressful. Last night was stressful. She still doesn’t know where they stand.

 

“So…” Her voice is tight, and she exhales on the ‘o’ with a cough. He looks at her sympathetically as she hits it again and is quiet. “So, is that an all the time thing, then?” And he doesn’t have to ask what she’s talking about. He shrugs his shoulders slowly.

 

“No…I’m…straight,” He finally tells her but they both know he’s lying. The word sounds dirty coming from his mouth.

 

“But Louis isn’t,” She points out to him and he is staring at a crack running across her ceiling in a long line of zig-zags.

 

“No.” He breathes out finally and leans up to throw the joint onto an ash tray resting near her nightstand. “Lou is definitely gay.” He still won’t look at her.

 

“Why then?” She asks and she sees his shoulders sag as he finally turns to lay back down next to her, resting on his side and propping his head up with his hands. “It’s a bit shit of you to do that to him if you’re straight.”

 

“I like to kiss,” He tells her and as if to prove a point he leans forward and kisses her square on the mouth, with a wet popping sound.  It’s dirty and sloppy with no finesse in it whatsoever. They both dissolve into giggles over it and it’s awhile before they can regain a serious tone.

 

“So you kiss him instead of the girl you’re shagging?” She asks and quirks an eyebrow at him and he looks pensive again as he adverts his eyes to a stray piece of rug coming unwound.

 

“It’s habit, more than anything,” He says guiltily, “When I was single, before you there really wasn’t anyone since I’d met Lou, we used to mess around a bit because it’s hard for him to go out and meet people. Like, proper boys for him to date and shag, and have one night stands with. I didn’t want to leave my best friend constantly wanking himself dry.”

 

“So it’s pity?” She questions and she thinks maybe she should be angry that her supposed boyfriend kissed his best friend and doesn’t even seem all that apologetic about doing it, more just annoyed that she had found out that it was something that wasn’t new to either of them.

 

“No.” His eyes harden as he looks at her, “Never pity. Not with him.” Anna blinks slowly at him and his frown deepens, “I don’t know what it is. I really enjoy sex with anyone…as long as I’m pleasing them, I’m happy. Does that make sense?”

 

“Yeah, I can understand that,” She tells him, “But it still doesn’t really explain what was going on last night with the two of you.”

 

He sighs and then sits up cross legged and scrubs his hands over his face, “I dunno. We were just talking one minute, and I swear we haven’t done anything since you and I had our third date.” She can’t help but feel that one sting slightly, knowing that he had probably gone back to his flat with that baby after they met and later that night fucked Louis senseless into the couch she’s found them curled up on. “But we were talking, and there’d been this guy there that Lou had been with before, right?” He playing with his fingers and she wants to still his worrying hands but doesn’t, “Anyways. The guy is fit, and I like him and everything, we’ve even had him ‘round for tea occasionally. Louis really likes him a lot and was going on about how he wanted to go out with the boy.” She tilts her head in confusion, “Like a proper date, you know? Like, he would come by and take Louis to dinner and they’d actually talk before shagging and I just.” His eyes look bright, and she can’t believe that actually might be crying, “It really freaked me out,” He finally gets out and his voice sounds so small, and it’s amazing how someone so large could look so fragile.

 

“But you’re straight,” She points out to him, though she’s beginning to think that might not be the case.

 

“Right,” He clears his throat but his voice is scratchy, “Right I know but.” He looks at her and shrugs helplessly, “I dunno. Just the thought of him having a proper boyfriend and everything made me so _jealous,_ I couldn’t handle the idea of it. So I kissed him and we got out of hand. I wasn’t even thinking.” The _of you_ is left unsaid, and maybe it’s better that way. She’s still not as upset as she thinks she should be because 1. They aren’t technically even boyfriend and girlfriend and 2. She knew he and Louis were something more from the second he had made breakfast for the three of them and all Harry’s energy was zoned in on the other boy even if his attention was on her.

 

“It’s alright,” She tells him and he looks so concerned that she sits up-her head spinning slightly and she slows her motions down so she doesn’t get sick. She reaches out and hugs him and he burrows his face into her hair breathing deeply. They’re quiet for awhile, just hugging each other and she can feel his eyelashes blinking on the tip of her ear. “You love him,” She tells him and he just nods.

 

“Yeah. I know.”

 

“Will you tell him?” Because who is she to demand that he outright does it? Their relationship is already complicated enough without the added actual _relationship_ being added into the mix.

 

“Think he knows.” Harry breathes with a sigh and pulls back, “Kind of…after last night, I think he knows.”

 

She cocks her head to the side, “Oh?”

 

“After you started walking away, I turned back to him and he said, ‘Go after her,’ and I was going to but…” he looks at her with an ‘I-don’t-want-to-hurt-your-feelings-look’ and she just cocks an eyebrow to encourage him, “But he looked so soft and I kissed him and said, ‘you know I can’t’ and…he just knows.” She feels for him, because maybe Harry thinks that his love is unrequited. That Louis thinks of him as some random boy to hook-up with occasionally when they’re both lonely and single but she knows different. Two months of messing around with Harry was all it took to _know_ different.

 

“He loves you too.” She says seriously, and Harry gives her a half-smile. “Don’t give me that. He does.”

 

“Maybe,” Yet they both know that Harry is aware of just how much Louis loves him.

 

They both lay back onto the carpet and closer their eyes listening to the whirring of the fan.

  
“Are we broken up?” He sleepily asks her and she almost doesn’t hear him, her motions feel heavy and she can’t find the strength to open her eyelids. Does she even have the ability to see anymore?

 

“I suppose,” She answers him slowly with a thick tongue, “On one condition.”

 

It’s quiet for a long time and she thinks he’s fallen asleep but eventually he breathes out, “Yeah?”

 

“The next time we do this, you better have him as yours and only yours.”

 

* * *

 

She doesn’t see Harry for a long time after that, almost six months, but they keep in contact through text messaging occasionally. It’s eerie how quickly her life resumes to the same, dull, nightmare it had been before he had walked into the bookshop.

 

Her nights go back to dedicating herself to watching every TV series on netflix and opting to be the official taster for Ben’n’Jerry’s. In all honesty, she hears more about him through the young girls that work in the shop than she does from him actually. They never discuss his relationship, or lack of, with Louis through messaging in case her phone falls into the wrong hands. She tries not to feel offended when he doesn’t even bother to call and let her know if the two of them ever stopped the stupidity of friends with benefits and just admitted that they were all each other needed.

 

She’s re-stocking the shelves in the religious section when the door chimes. Hannah, the young girl who runs the front and does nothing but read the terrible gossip magazines they have displayed and complain that they were the only bookshop in the world without some sort of coffee shop added in, screeches and Anna hears a rack hit the ground with a crash.

 

She places, _100 Inspirational Bible Versus and their Meanings_ onto the appropriate shelf and makes her way up front, knowing it’s probably that boy Hannah claims to hate but Anna knows the two of them hook-up in the store room closet. “Christ Hannah,” She yells as she gets closer, “You need to learn to control yourself. You’d think the bloody Queen was he-“ She doesn’t finish her sentence because there is Harry with a tan and a smile waiting by the door.

 

“Hiya!” He says happily to her and engulfs her into his long limbs with a kiss on her cheek. She stands looking just as flabbergasted as Hannah does when he pulls away.

 

“Well,” She regains her composure but not without a blush, “I have to say…of everything was expecting,” She wishes she had something cooler to say but she can’t stop the way her knees are trembling. He’s even more beautiful than he was half a year ago and she’s _missed_ him so damn much that she feels like she can’t breathe.

 

“I know I’ve been a bit distance but I was wondering if we could maybe catch up?” He looks to where Hannah is in actual tears, and gives her a dazzling smile, “Alright…Hannah?” He reads her nametag and she let’s out a sob. She’s enough of a sight to sober Anna up and Anna glares at her as she makes a scene and completely ignores the pregnant women trying to check out.

 

“Hannah, watch the shop, yeah? I’ll be back in an hour.” She hangs her apron on the hook near the door and follows Harry back to his car and he drives them through the streets of London, weaving randomly. They don’t speak for a really long time, and she doesn’t know how to start the conversation.

 

“I did it,” He finally says and they are still just driving aimlessly, “I’ve wanted to tell you but I haven’t had the chance…we got so busy,” He has the decency to look embarrassed about that fact.

 

“It’s okay,” Even though it doesn’t seem like the appropriate thing to say because he did break-up with her and cheat on her, then not even have the decency to tell her that the boy he’d cheated (could she even say it was cheating when they weren’t even in a relationship?) on her with was officially his. But she still cared about him and it was _okay_.

 

“It isn’t but I appreciate the fact that you seem to think so,” He teases her, and they both smile at each other.

 

“Did he say he loves you too?” She questions even though she knows the answer. She’s been no stranger to the internet since they ended their torrid love affair. Their body language screams anything but just friends.

 

“Yeah,” He breathes with a smile, “He loves me too.”

 

“Told yah,” She says happily and he let’s out a laugh with her joining in.

 

“Thanks, you know, for encouraging me.” He looks sincere as he pulls the car up in front of his flat.

 

“I didn’t do anything,” Anna says bewildered, “All we did is get high and talk about your feelings. You already knew everything, and made all the decisions.” Harry just stares at her with a soft smile.

 

“I really like you Anna,” He says happily, “I’m glad we’re friends.” Choosing to ignore the way she refused to admit to helping him in anyway achieve the boy he’d been aching for.

 

“Me too Harry styles,” she tells him, “Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave any feedback you might have (the good, bad, and ugly) plus kudos if you think it deserves it :).


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